—II—

FLIGHT PLAN

LOCATION:

36'25''N 25'26''E

What happens to the world, when it's left in the dark? What happens when its people are left so vulnerable, that in an hour of desperation, we allow fear and hatred to envelope us. This world, was reeling in from the Great Depression, a downfall in the economic landscape. While the world dealt with their own problems, they were blind to the rise of war.

On September 1st 1939 AD, Germany invaded Poland, and the first domino fell. The world was a gigantic canvas of blood and death—but who held the brush?

Saturday, January 3rd 1945 AD—Rain poured down hard upon them. Mud stained his boots as he trudged on with great care that was waning thin after a long journey by boat. He was following behind eight others, watching their six, in their terms. He clutched his M1 Carbine closer to his chest, he was nervous beyond normality. It was his first mission abroad, to say he was nervous and apprehensive would be the understatement of the century.

Despite this, Steve was just dripping with excitement—a contradiction he knew, but alas it was how he felt. Nearly four years he'd been waiting to go join the war, and the years before, spent just hearing about the efforts, he knew his dad was rather pissed off. He was born and raised in England, came to America after the first war, now there was another one and the United States weren't even interested in helping.

They got to a ledge and crouched down behind a boulder. Their captain raised his hand to them and the man next to him handed him a pair of binoculars. 'What do you see, Mustafa?' he asked.

He turned to his men, passed his right hand man and toward the back where the rookie sat waiting, anxiety plain on his young face. 'Come here, Mr Trevor, I need you to see something.'

Steve timidly did as he was told, sliding down the line until he was shoulder to shoulder to the captain. Compared to him, Hafiz Mustafa was a hulk of a man. Powerful, demanding presence and a growling voice to match. He was in a group of nine men. Hafiz was their captain; a Palestinian man who immigrated to England after the First War, before that he was part of some sort of Special Unit for the now dissolved Ottoman Empire.

Sergeant John Matthews was their demolitions expert. His story was that they found him rotting away in a Turkish prison the year prior. An Australian with a reputation for either setting things on fire, blowing them up or…basically he had a talent for breaking things.

Next to Matthews was Lorenzo Vespucci, an Italian Historian that defected from the Axes and came in with rather unsettling information. Beside him was an Indian woman who seemed not to like talking that much, not even to tell them her name. As such, Lorenzo has gone on to calling her Vatu, seeing as in Sanskrit it meant silent or calm, doting on the fact that she was essentially an assassin—enacting swift and silent kills from the shadows. Steve hasn't personally sampled her skills as of yet, but stories go around here and there at the agency.

Among the group was also a Swede named Joshua Skarsgard and like Vatu, he was a killer, though he was a man that liked to talk, not much but…well on a normal well-adjusted level, considering he'd spent the majority of the last war, watching his family tortured by Serbians.

Sir Galen Blake was your run of the mill posh English guy, knighted by the King, proper table manners…and the best shot in their military, placing him just above Aaron Candy, another marksman from the Caribbean.

Then there was Hafiz Mustafa's second in command. Colonel Rick Flag, a fellow American that like him was plucked out of the army for this little band here.

Steve looked through the lenses. 'What's going on there?' he asked their leader. It was Rick that answered him though.

'British Intelligence intercepted a Nazi transmission code sequence a few years back,' he said. 'It gave us an advantage so to make sure that Hitler won't change it, they kept it a secret. With this intelligence, we were able to decipher almost every transmission we intercepted.'

Then Hafiz finished off, 'Hitler gave a thumbs-up to an airplane project, testing fighters and weapons that might be disastrous in the end.'

Down below, a small battalion of German soldiers, elites, all gathered in front of two figures elevated atop a stone stage, around a court of ancient Greek columns. A hooded figure, small yet the mystery that surrounded them was magnetic. Steve could see in the individual faces that looked up to them, monotonous faces looking with ready compliance.

The second one was less mysterious. A huge man, towering in stature, full Nazi uniform and while he had his arms tucked behind him with his back straight, there was a savagery to him that could not escape Steve's notice. He was as white as snow, almost ashen, but with red markings, tattoos on his face. Even his shaven head was menacing as he addressed the other soldiers.

Behind them all was some sort of craft, Steve supplied it was an aircraft. 'Looks so different though,' Rick pointed out. 'It's edgy, looks more like a spaceship for aliens,' he said with laughter.

'Be serious, Flag,' Mustafa gritted, taking the binoculars from the young Trevor. 'If Hitler believes it important then we need to treat it thus. That could be our objective right there.'

'Sir, I've never seen an aircraft like that, it hardly looks operational,' Steve Trevor pointed down at the ship. 'Its wingspan is too short for take-off.'

'Plus, how is that thing going to go anyway,' Aaron also pointed out. Santorini was a rather small island, and rocky too, not a lot of open and flat surfaces for a successful take off for a plane. Most of them found it a strange place, to hold an aircraft test. 'Vespucci, what could you tell us about this place? Why here?'

The Italian shrugged. 'Honestly, it beats the shit out of me. Though I hear talk that Hitler believes this place ground zero for what's left of an advanced race that ties to Germans.'

'What do you mean?' Trevor then asked, intrigued.

'Well according to them, this place might hold the key to the legitimacy of the German's claim as master race on Earth. The Aryan Race…'

'Poppy-cock,' Sir Blake had remarked. 'Anything Hitler claims is just a bunch of bull to rule the world, and truth be told, everybody wants to rule the world.'

Back to the two strange people on the stage, Steve eyed Mustafa closely, his eyes glued to the mysterious figure. She then revealed herself…yes, it was a woman under that hood, which also hid her short and violet hair. Mustafa definitely knew who she was—his eyes had shrunk in suspicion. 'Who is she?'

But the commander remained silent, dead silent. His eyes, glued to this mysterious woman like she were hideous monster. 'She's Hitler's favourite little secret. Whatever we'll be doing down there, kid, don't let her see you and if she does…don't let her speak.'

Steve looked at the woman. He believed he saw a file on her back at HQ. Strange young woman, but stranger still was that she was Hitler's favourite military leader. She didn't seem very special. But her bodyguard was impressive. Like a giant, a bloody beast. 'That guy's bizarre,' he muttered.

'Don't underestimate the woman, Mr Trevor,' Mr Mustafa advised. His stare was quite concerning, like he knew them before, firsthand experience maybe.

The aircraft itself, if it even was an aircraft, was even more bizarre. Black metallic shell, quite flatter than ordinary planes, but there was only one of them. Was this their only weapon?

Steve looked to their commanding officer with wide eyes, 'Is that why we're here, sir?'

He smiled at the young lad and produced a weapon. 'That's why we're here, Trevor.'

'So we're going to destroy it?'

Hafiz shook his head. 'Nope…we're going to fly it outta here.'

-=\/=-

She was known as the God of War, or Lady Valkyrie by the Germans that she commanded. She stood on the platform, back straightened, hands behind her back and head raised to them. 'We're almost there, Spartan,' she murmured.

Her hulking servant merely sneered. 'I see no point in continuing the search for the Box. You have an entire nation behind you now, their Fuhrer is wrapped around your—'

'Hitler is nothing but a bitter little boy who's never been accepted in anything.' She looked on at her men. They were so fragile, so weak. 'No, I don't see him fulfilling his dream in world domination. His weak, pathetic ideas are his undoing.'

The brute only grunted, his stance straightened, his firm and eternally rueful eyes examined the troops.

'No, I need the power that box offers me.' Satisfied, she dismissed her soldiers who scattered into their base. She'd seen the comings and goings of great dynasties, seen the world bow down to one deity or another, the rise and fall of empires. Now here, the waving crimson flags, the golden standards, this was something that did not shock her in the slightest.

What did surprise her, however, was how such an imbecile could have ever achieved such feats. She had narrowed it down to his silver tongue and his trigger-happy will.

She went down to her tent, set up next to some ancient walls and columns in the Greek style. Inside, it looked more like a shrine than anything else. Her research into the occult for Heinrich Himmler had led her across the world digging up dozens of ancient artefacts from forgotten worlds—things that they thought had power in them.

They were useless trinkets, no power in them even back in antiquity. The young woman sat at her desk and began pouring through her journals. If her research had amounted to anything over the past few thousand years, was that no magic was perfect, even that of a god.

There were cracks in Hade's concealment magic and she'd spend lifetimes in search of them. When Hitler launched this little project to test a new aircraft as well as other prototype weapons, she personally requested overseeing it. Why?

She chose here, on this little spit of land to test out new technology, deadly technology, because this was where she'd calculated the crack to be.

On her side, she saw the new guns that Hitler wanted tested. Apparently they were automatic weapons, self-reloading mechanism made them quick and easy to operate. A few more rifles stood beside them that supposedly fired high intensity lasers. She'd believe it once she sees it in action. If she was going to find the box, she'd need an arsenal.

She moved out and towards a pavilion set up for her scientists and developers. 'My Lady,' one of her doctors saluted to her in German before returning back to work. She handed Pandora a prototype pistol…her own design.

She felt the weapon, its weight in her hand. She aimed it at a wooden target and open fire. When she had finished her clip, the target was left in ruined mess upon the floor. Once satisfied she handed the firearm back and proceeded to sample their new toys.

'Also, Lady Valkyrie,' another woman appeared, a tall and rather masculine woman with dark black hair, beautiful even for the lower left side of her face that was covered by a plastic mask the shade of her skin colour. She had been severely burnt once. The woman directed her attention to the desk in the corner. 'Scouts discovered this tablet amongst the ruins of an ancient structure—'

'I have no interest in that,' she responded quickly. 'Whatever you have to show me can wait for tomorrow.'

'But, Lady Valkyrie,' Elsa protested, 'Herr Himmler believes that the Aryan—'

Pandora groaned, annoyed and stopped her from speaking. 'Himmler is a fool,' she exclaimed to the entire tent. 'He believes that you Germans descended from Atlanteans?' It was pathetic. She waved her hands at her direction and suddenly she started choking herself. Then, as if an invisible force had grabbed her, she started to rise up. Pandora drew her closer, looking her in the eyes, raised above her. 'You are not of Atlantis,' she spoke airily. 'You cannot be.' Then she leaned in, her mouth now toucher her ear intimately. 'For I was there, and I saw Poseidon reclaim his kingdom, and hell rip them into their deaths,' she whispered. 'I saw their country washed away from this Earth.'

Pandora then released her from the magical grasp. Elsa struggled for breath and that was when Pandora spoke again to her, warning her further, not to question her again.

She then turned to the others. 'This goes to all of you. The enemy has had the upper hand these past few years and that is due in large by a lack of hard conviction and over dependence. Abandon any ideas of mysticism of lineage, we're here to improve upon our technologies of war. That is how we will dominate this world. In this battlefield…I am Fuhrer…'

As they then resumed their duties, Elsa shrivelled back into her study—perhaps she should safeguard the metal tablets for later. For Lady Valkyrie, she wasn't done with that stupid little girl yet.

'What was that about, Your Highness?' Elsa's eyes grew as large as baseballs. Pandora chuckled. 'You must relax, Princess Maru. I have known about your identity from our very first meeting in Berlin, princess.'

Elsa or "Maru" suddenly became even more defensive. She thought about reaching for her gun, secured in its holster but memory of that magic trick against her threw that idea out of the window. 'If my father, or my people had their way, I'd have stayed home, looked after the house. I'm not the type I don't think.'

Again, Pandora chuckled as the half-Japanese, half-Russian princess, confounded beyond belief sifted around a little. 'No, I don't believe you are as well.' The High Commanding Officer walked around the table, studying the stone tablets found on the island with no more than a trivial interest. 'Your files reveal a talent with poisons. After all, your intended was found with an as of yet unidentified toxin in his system. So you have a background in chemistry and pharmaceuticals. I believe that a better use for you than in Ahnenerbe.'

Once Lady Valkyrie was finished speaking Princess Maru was left completely speechless. She made to speak but again was interrupted.

Pandora was approached by one of her developers. This one was an old man that designed the jet plane that they came to test out. One of many soon to be powers to inhabit the sky front. She dismissed the petrified princess to give full attention to her inventor.

'Madame,' he saluted, handing her a file of their plane's latest fittings, 'we are all set to begin aerial testing first thing tomorrow.' He allowed her to read through the report until she got to the main artillery. 'Weapons have been successfully fitted and await combat assessment with flight.'

Pandora sighed. 'Finally, some practicality,' she gave the man a pat on the back as she read on. 'You've done well, Professor Morrow. If all goes according to plan, I'll arrange for your reward upon return to Berlin, in our new toy.'

The engineer bowed humbly. 'No reward necessary, My Lady. Hail Hitler.'

To this she smiled, both in satisfaction and amusement. Hail Hitler…

-=O=-

Meanwhile, right outside that very tent, Steve Trevor stayed as close as he could to Captain Mustafa, stealthily following his superior officer around the outside of the camp. They were only half way to the plane, tip-toeing past some Nazi Heer soldiers too busy to notice their shadows. Distinguished by the M44 uniform they wore which were quite similar to their battle dress.

The camp site was buzzing with life around the inner circle with drinking and singing in German. All across the plateau, he saw the swastika flag raised high in the wind and their eagle standards in front of every tent.

'So what's the plan?' he asked Mustafa.

Mustafa stopped them as they evaded another patrol unit. He pressed them close to the pavilions. 'The plan, Mr Trevor, is to get to the plane and be ready to start it up. You need to start listening at briefings, Mr Trevor.'

'Well truth be told…this is my first day…actually my first evening,' he said, looking apprehensively at his commander. 'Your my first ever assignment.'

Mustafa sighed, rather annoyed at his superiors. 'Alright, while we wait, Matthews and the rest will sabotage enemy weaponry and equipment. Once they're done we should be ready for take-off as soon as they get to the plane.'

They had spoken is whispers but in doing so had forgotten caution, a young German soldier had passed by, seen them and tried to make off to warn his comrades. Mustafa had acted quickly—grabbed the young man, covered his mouth and with his left hand there appeared a small blade hidden within his sleeve. He lodged it deep within the man's gullet.

'I'm sorry,' he muttered to the dying boy. Steve watched in a mixture of shock and interest as his captain grabbed the corpse and hid him in the shadows. 'We need to move now.'

The plane looked far bigger now up close like this. Steve needed to pace himself and appreciate its ingenuity. It looked much flatter than standard fighters, it's designed strayed as much as it could from the cylindrical body.

But there was another group of Nazi guards seated on a large crate, drinking beer by the looks of it. He handed Steve a small weapon concealed in his pocket. The young recruit looked to him, brow raised. What was he planning on doing with what appeared to be an FP-45 Liberator? 'You know there are two of them, right?'

The Palestinian seemed not to have paid any attention to him and took aim. Then there was a slight whistle…and another, before the two guards collapsed onto the crate. Steve was beyond shocked and asked away.

'What the hell just happened?'

Mustafa showed him the firearm. 'You'll find, Mr Trevor, that A.R.G.U.S is a storehouse of many prototype weapons. This particular weapon is one they developed a few years ago,' he said to the still speechless young man. 'It propels .45 calibre bullets more than thirty yards, no recoil, and no sound. Cartridge holds around five shots.'

'Sounds like a dangerous weapon,' Steve commented, slightly over his shock, 'in the wrong hands.'

'This is war, Mr Trevor…they're dangerous in any hand.'

Inside the plane, Trevor found himself in a state of wonder. Plane was far more spacious than it looked from the outside. It felt like he had just entered into a science fiction comic book and that Rick Flag could have been right and it was indeed an alien spacecraft. It was so strange.

Ten seats arranged in twos until they reached the cockpit. 'What are you thinking?' he asked his captain who looked as though he was witness to some very devastating news. Now looking around him, Steve could see why.

'If this plane is indeed operational, then the Germans a winning jump on us.'

'So what do we do?' again, Trevor asked. 'If this thing isn't operational, then we're sitting ducks surrounded by Nazis…you wanna risk it?'

'Hitler cannot have this weapon, Trevor,' Hafiz replied. 'So it either leaves with us, or not at all.' The captain then showed him a bag full of explosives. Steve finally understood the mission now, and regretted signing up a little.

They continued to search through the plane, examining the many features the aircraft offered. Trevor stopped when he saw the plane's blueprints, pinned against the wall, a clipboard below that looked like it listed the vehicle's parts with ticks beside them. It looked like the plane was fully functional according to the checklist.

They were about to let relief in, until Hafiz noticed another thing… 'Damn…we don't have the keys.'

So he took out another strange device— a small, black ball, smaller than a marble which he then placed in his ear. He took a quick scan of the outside before tapping the ball.

'Pole, Boomer, this is Sion,' he whispered into…nothing. 'We're in but we might need a key…scan for Savage's Den…roger that…'

Once he was finished, he took the ball out and back into his pocket, and now met with even more bewilderment from the American Rookie. 'What was that?'

Hafiz shrugged, 'You didn't get a code name? Mine's Sion, Colonel Matthews is Boomer, Vatu's is Black Widow, the Italian's is Vinci, Rick's is Pole…he hates that one—'

'You know what I mean,' Trevor exclaimed, affronted by his captain's attempted stalling. 'Is that more tech the Agency is keeping—'

'Fine, how about this,' Hafiz suddenly became stern as he drew closer, 'I'll fill you in on everything after we finish the damn mission, is that alright with you?!' Trevor felt like he was getting a good scolding from his mother, the way Mustafa towered over him, he felt like he was a child. 'I'm sorry that you didn't get a fucking tour of the Agency after recruitment but we were short on team members for this operation. Do you want to know why?' Mustafa let the question linger, watching the young man shrink down. 'We take this job and this war seriously.'

Outside, Matthews found the artillery truck in the far western part of the camp. Only one guard lay stationed there. Vatu did her job and took quick care of him with her hidden knife, the same as Hafiz's weapon.

Colonel Flag stood waiting with the rest of the band, for the signal to move in. They found Lady Valkyrie's tent, vacant, in the centre of the camp so after Vatu and Matthews were finished, sent the two there. Hopefully the keys to the aircraft were there.

Sooner than expected, the Australian and the Assassin rejoined them. 'What happened?'

Matthews was trying to catch his breath then pointed to the larger tent in the centre. 'The key's not there. But I found these,' he produced around seven pistols from his pockets. 'These are the prototype weapons she wanted tested,' he suggested. 'Figured they could be useful.'

'Okay…so why'd you run?' Vespucci asked him.

'Pandora's there,' he said and they all tensed up. 'She just missed us but I'm sure that we lost her.'

Suddenly Flag's eyes widened as he looked overhead. 'Then why is she staring at us right now?'

There, outside her tent, Lady Valkyrie stood, hands behind her back, just staring in their direction with a huge smile on her face. She started turning around, looking at the plane. 'Oh Mustafa!' she shouted and every soldier there took out their weapons. 'How I've missed you. Come now, don't be shy…show yourself!'

Hiding behind the tents, Matthews made to leap out and attack but was held back by Flag who urged him patience.

Inside the plane, they both heard her call. Hafiz cursed himself and made a silent prayer as he looked outside the cockpit windscreen, then he searched the panel. The older man directed Trevor to the pilot's seat where he saw a metal plate the shape of a human hand.

'Stay here,' he told the young rookie. 'I'll go get us a hand.'

Mustafa made his way to the Nazi official, as he did on many of their run-ins. The other soldiers had their guns trained on him despite Lady Valkyrie's assurance that she was in no danger from an old friend.

'My, my, Mustafa,' she clicked. 'We missed you in London. How is Zatara these days?'

He gave her a slight smile. 'Well, you know how it is, Pandora. War is old men talking and young men dying. John's trying to avoid both these days.'

'Well you're not really young now are you?'

'Look at you. You haven't aged a day,' he quipped though she merely smiled, tilting her head as she studied him. 'As for where he is because I know that's what you'll ask—He's safe and he's beyond your reach.'

Again she did not seem to show any fear, or anger, but merely stared at him…as if she was looking through his head, and knowing her, she probably was. However, Hafiz had worked many years to strengthen his own mind against her perversions. As her face began to show some contortions, he guessed they worked, to his relief.

'I see my teachings have served you perfectly, even if you do not acknowledge them—'

'Or perhaps you're not as strong as you once believed.'

Her eyes continued to stare at him. 'Well, ten thousand years is a lot of time to test one's strength, and add to their power and potency. Would you like a reminder?' The young looking woman raised her hand and out flew Matthews, speeding their way. But he was then caught by an enormous hand. The Spartan now had him by the throat, tightening just enough to let the Australian squirm around for air.

'Let him go, Lady!' Hafiz roared, taking his own gun from its sheath. 'Let the man go and shall have peace this night,' he finished, this time in a more lighter voice.

Fearing further escalation, he made a silent and discreet gesture behind him for the rest of the tem to get to the plane.

Amidst his laboured gasping, Matthews was able to get a word to his leader. 'Captain…just shoot the bitch…'

That was when something happened… a loud grumble, echoed amongst the rocks. It came from above, like thunder, only it quickly began to sound far different, like a whistling sound. Pandora looked up and for a moment she moved around them, until finally when she stopped, an even larger grin appeared. 'It's time then.' She looked down at Hafiz and then to the brute. 'Kill them—'

She was interrupted by an explosion within her camp. The truck carrying the rest of the prototype weapons burst into a fiery crowd that in turn started a fire around them. Every tent now was combusting.

Using this spontaneous bout of confusion, Hafiz ran up to the Spartan. 'T-hg-il-fo-erbas,' he muttered as he swung what had once been an empty hand when out spurted a sword made of white light and managed to slice off the big guy's hand. The Australian fell to the mud but was helped up again.

Meanwhile, the Spartan roared in pain, at least for a moment before he looked to Pandora who, with a flick of her fingers, grew her companion a new one.

'We need to leave, now!' Hafiz remarked and they both ran for their lives toward the plane, dodging exploding tents on the way.

On board, Hafiz showed them the dismembered hand. When he placed it on the metal hand print, the panel lit up and the engines began to come to life. But it did not move forward for a run up… instead it went straight up into the skies.

On the ground amidst the ensuing chaos, the soldiers tried to contain the fires, one shouted that it was Greek fire. The Spartan, unfazed by the flames and explosions marched of his own pace to retrieve from his own tent a pair of very large blades, disproportionate to his arms. He hooked up the chains on the hilts onto his belt and sprinted after the plane and with one powerful thrust against the stone of the ruins, launched up onto the craft's metal back.

The Team got themselves buckled up with Steve Trevor taking the pilot's seat while Hafiz flew shotgun.

Steve had never flown a vehicle like this before. It felt different though the main controls were the same as any normal plane, there were so many other levers and tinkers that looked alien to him, maybe to anyone, like one he guessed had the plane fly vertically. He felt a little out of his element. Two giant daggers pierced through the top of the cockpit did not help in the slightest.

'Any time now, Trevor,' Flag exclaimed in his seat, urging for some distance be put between them and Santorini. 'Truman will be waiting for us at Laputa.'

Their experienced pilot had now resigned to just pressing the buttons at random until sure enough they were gone, and boy did the plane move. Steve spent the majority of the time cursing as he flew the vessel around Santorini, trying to shake the big Nazi agent off of their backs even as the plane ripped through the air like lightning. For Trevor, it took a while to get used to but now he could manoeuvre the vessel through even the most smallest of crevices, passing through a ruined archway in an attempt to throw the Spartan off. But the Spartan did not budge and he even started tearing a large gash above.

A very bad feeling entered into their hearts as the sky then started to glow, flashing in front of them itself like lightning, like they were struck by a bolt from heaven. The plane started to speed up…and then…boom…

-=WONDER-WOMAN=-

Author's Note:

I am very sorry it's taken me ages to get around to this fic. I had some very serious Writer's Block regarding Wonder Woman after the last chapter, especially after that Wonder Woman trailer dropped, I felt rather lost a bit. I wonder if I'm juggling too much here. Heck I'd be willing to let one of you guys to continue and finish this Wonder Woman story if you want. Just tell me and maybe we can move them to your page but still be part of this Universe I'm hopefully crafting.

If not I think I might still be able to write it, just it might take longer now.

I don't much know why I chose a World War II setting, maybe it's more because here, the enemy seems more clear. Also I've seen Wonder Woman more on the WWII scene than WWI, maybe it's just me. My intentions are rather to give this story more of that Indiana Jones adventurous feel to it and there's a lot of things one could tell about the Nazis and World War II.

So please review and tell me what needs work.